


Fires in the night

by myrish_lace



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, One Shot, Pregnancy, Sexual Content, Tent Sex, Tumblr Prompt, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 22:23:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13599666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrish_lace/pseuds/myrish_lace
Summary: Jon and Sansa are on the run from the Night King's army, fighting to survive. But as Sansa watches Jon cooking dinner over a campfire, something stirs inside her, and she turns to Jon for comfort. They're careful when they make love, but one slip is all it takes. Sansa has to break the news to Jon that she's pregnant, and she's worried about his reaction.





	Fires in the night

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble for jonsakinkweek! Day 6, Pregnancy. From a lovely "first sentence" tumblr prompt I received. I'm myrish-lace-love on tumblr if you want to say hi! :)

She'd rarely had a chance to watch Cook at work in the kitchens, but now that they're on retreat from Winterfell with the Night King nipping at their heels, Sansa found comfort in the way Jon stirred and swirled the cauldron before their open, blazing fire.

On nights like these, she saw a glimpse into the life he led as a ranger beyond the wall. Campfires and cookfires. Battles like this one too. 

They were on the run from death and despair. The nightmares of skeletons rattling unnaturally as they rose from the dead were raw and fresh. Perhaps that's why they had given in, stealing a moment of pleasure amidst the darkness, after their seventh night on the road.

They'd been huddled for warmth on the meager pile of furs. Sansa couldn't stop shaking. She glanced at Jon, and saw the heat from his gaze that he tried to hide like a dark secret.

It had been so easy to tip her head up, to kiss him, thinking _please, please let me not be wrong, please let us do more than survive tonight, let us live and love each other_.

Jon had stopped, frozen still, and Sansa's heart had sunk. 

Then he'd murmured her name, _Sansa_ , like a prayer, and kissed her back, gentle at first then deeply, leaning her back onto the furs and covering her body with his. Neither of them had been able to stop, giving in to a passion that started at Castle Black, peeling off their clothes in a rush. Jon made love to her like no other man had, like he worshipped her, needed her, as much as she needed him.

Gods, the _heat_ of him, everywhere, driving the chill from her skin, enveloping her in warmth. He’d kissed her in places she'd never dreamed of, bringing her pleasure so strong it was almost painful. But her favorite moment – the one that flooded her with desire and brought color to her cheeks for weeks afterwards – was when he’d given in and spent inside her.  

“We shouldn't, sweet girl,” he’d rasped, as he trailed open-mouthed kisses down her neck. He was already hard and throbbing against her thigh, holding back, when all she’d wanted him to do was let go.  

She cupped his cheek, willing him to understand. This was sin she’d bear gladly, with him, forever.

She whispered “Please, Jon, for me, for us,” and reached down and stroked him. He groaned, then laced their hands together above her head, a question in his eyes still as he rested his forehead on hers. She nodded, past speaking, and he began to thrust into her slowly. 

She’d gasped from the fullness, digging her heels into his back, and then Jon was snapping his hips into her, _so tight_ and _so sweet_ and _mine, love, you're mine_ pouring from him. She coaxed him into peaking inside her, keening, _yes, yes yes_ , loud enough that the other soldiers were sure to hear. She didn’t care. Sansa would let the world know, as long as Jon stayed with her.

He’d been quiet and ashamed the next morning, but when night fell she’d led him back to their furs and soon they were joined together. He didn't spill inside her again, not after that first night, no matter her pleas, though he loved her, body and soul, and she him. 

Now she rubbed her belly discreetly as she watched the cook fire cast shadows over Jon's dear face. One night had been enough, and now a child stirred inside her. _Don’t worry, little one_ , she thought, _I’ll take care of you, provide for you, and so will Jon, he’s providing for us even in this dark and desolate place_.

There came a time when she had to tell him, when it had been two moons since she bled, and she could no longer hide the swell of her stomach.

“Truly?” Jon said, equal parts fear and wonder. He held her close, running his hand over her stomach. “Sansa, this is no time for a babe, this–“

“I know, Jon, but we love each other, don’t we?”

When Jon didn’t answer right away, Sansa quailed inside. Perhaps Jon was angry. She’d pressured him, after all, and they were on the knife’s edge of disaster every day.

Then Jon reached for her chin and tilted her face up. The kiss he gave her was soft and full of promise, and her stomach eased.

“Yes, yes, we do, and I love our babe already.”

Jon told her later that moment was when he first let himself believe that they’d win and walk back through Winterfell’s gates. And they did return home, with a dark-haired baby boy at Sansa’s breast, the start of a family Jon and Sansa had wished for all their lives.


End file.
